for thee," interposed Hortensius Martius softly.

"And your own aims that you would follow, your own ambitions that you
would feed."

Then as hot words of protest rose to the lips of most, she put up her
hand and added with quiet dignity:

"Nay, my lords, 'tis but human to be ambitious, and Rome herself is
great because she is ambitious. But I, for myself alone, have no
ambition. The proud title which ye would offer me holds no allurement to
my tastes. But if the gods will so guide my choice that a just and brave
man shall bear the sceptre of imperial Augustus, then will I thank them
on my knees that I was made a medium for their will."

Hortensius Martius, convinced that her eyes had rested on him while she
spoke, made an effort to disguise the look of triumph that shone from
out his glance. But young Escanes, in whom all hope had not yet died,
was under the same impression, as also was my lord Philippus Decius;
for, in truth, Dea Flavia had looked round on them all marvelling how
any of them could compare with the man who already, in her heart, was
the chosen lord of Rome.

"And now, my lords," she said, paying no further heed to the sighs of
restless desires that rose up round her as she spoke, "I pray you ask no
more of me. I must think and I must pray. I entreat you not to urge a
decision on me until I have thought and prayed."

"Time is precious, Augusta," urged Caius Nepos feebly, "and the people
will not wait."

"The people have fled from before the storm," she rejoined, "and their
will, remember, my lords, may not be in accordance with yours."

"They call for the praefect of Rome and the praefect is dead. We must
be ready to acclaim a Caesar who will be equally to their choice."

"Then," she said, "when to-morrow the third hour of the day is called, I
pray you, my lords, come back to me for mine answer. But I must have
until to-morrow to ponder and to pray. An you must press me now," she
added decisively, seeing that protestations were again hanging on their
lips, "then must my answer be 'No!' to all your demands."

Though in her heart she had already weighed all that she meant to do,
yet she would not give her decision without speaking first to the man
who already was the elect of her choice. He was sick now, lying in the
arms of sleep. In a few hours probably he would be refreshed, and it
would indeed be a mighty Caesar whom she would proclaim on the morrow
before the people of Rome.

"The people